“That was a marvelous day,” I said, and Bob nodded his head. He started to say something else, but Terry nudged him into silence. Since Bob wasn’t speaking, I continued. “You’re the absolute best, Timothy. I loved every minute of our tour and the restaurant, and the adorable cap and my sweatshirt. Thank you, thank you!”
We’d climbed into the car by that time and were heading back to the hotel, sitting on truly comfortable leather seats that, I guess like all limos, smelled of high quality saddlery. Timothy handed me a bottled water and told the guys to help themselves. There were cookies on a platter for us inside the limo. Terry made a pig of himself, eating four of them. I hoped we didn’t crumb up the vehicle too badly.
Sighing loudly after eating a scrumptious chocolate chip with walnut cookie, I added, “I have to admit, though, poor San Francisco. I feel like a traitor for saying this, but San Diego is the absolute best zoo I’ve ever been to.”
Bob, even with Terry nudging him to be quiet, agreed. “Yeah, I really liked that big polar bear. He was a good fisherman, I mean, fisher bear.”
I guess we were all punchy tired by then. Every one of us broke out in laughter, even though the comment wasn’t really that funny.
Our hotel wasn’t far. We were soon climbing out of the limo and entering the huge reception area, only to see the golfing guy sitting on one of the couches. The tiresome, Mr. Peters had been waiting for us.
Timothy’s face got all dark cumulonimbus cloud, and I could tell a big storm was about to hit. It reminded me of the way Timothy had looked when I first met him: somber, moody and rude.
I jerked Timothy’s arm. “He can’t do anything to irritate us further. We just have to walk by him, paying no attention, right?”
Timothy let out a big sigh, moved forward, and ignoring the mad hatter golf maniac, strode us forward toward the elevator.
“Just a minute,” Mr. Peters called out. “I need to speak with you.”
He yelled that clear across the reception room. All eyes in the large reception area pinpointed on him, then swept over our group as if we’d been partly the cause of their broken peace. The four of us kept walking as if we hadn’t heard Mr. Peters. It was the right thing to do. By the time the vampire hunter leapt up and started running toward the elevator, we’d already entered and were heading up to our rooms.
I was surprised when Timothy pressed our actual floor, but then he pressed four other numbers, as well, two above and two below ours.
That seemed overkill to me. Mr. Peters didn’t have a key to our rooms. He couldn’t invade when we were safely tucked in place.